I Think I Have One In Almost Every Socials

16 likes on tiktok is embarrassing but 16 likes on tumblr is like winning a grammy

needed this so bad istg

what was i made for? ❀ b.e

fluff, depression, relapses, ed, sh, childhood memories

billie came home; the sixth time she'd come home this late. it was almost 4 a.m. and she assumed you'd be asleep in bed, waiting for her. her steps were vague, trying to see through the darkness of the house where she was walking. she noticed the television on, the large couch with its back to her.

when billie approached to turn it off while yawning, she noticed a figure lying right there. her heart nearly leaped out of her chest, but she soon realized it was you. wait—what were you doing here?

"baby?" your girlfriend's voice reached your ears, yet you didn't move.

maybe you were too sad to react to anything anyone said, or your mind no longer knew it was real. you had recently visited your childhood home, yes, the one that still haunted your dreams. you went alone, without billie, you hadn't dared to ask her to accompany you because she seemed too busy, going back and forth to the studio or to meetings.

the only thing that came to mind and stuck like a stake were those letters that were in a box under your bed, names of relatives on each one. they were the kind of letters you only write when you slowly put hundreds and hundreds of pills in your mouth to end your misery.

it seemed unreal until today the way you had treated yourself, cutting your skin, stopping eating to become lighter than a feather like in your childhood. maybe that was the whole point of what you did in the past, to feel like a little girl again. hurt, fragile, maybe, just maybe someone seeing you like this would take care of you.

but not even the ghost of your mother appeared there to hold you, and that was something you would always carry with you.

billie noticed your open eyes, you weren't asleep, you were motionless, your eyes dry with no tears left to cry. her heart ached, the few times she had seen you after you had returned from your childhood home she had seen you discouraged, and every time she tried to ask the alarm went off to go to the studio. she felt a guilt weighing on her soul, even more so when she noticed a plate of food on the coffee table.

the same plate of food she served you before leaving without warning. the food was in its place, you hadn't even taken a bite. but how would you do it? how could you eat with such profound sadness occupying every space in your body, including your stomach?

"baby, please talk to me." your girlfriend sat next to you, right where your legs were. "i know you're not asleep."

you were a little more hurt by the way billie spoke, you could tell she was tired with her yawns.

her hand rested on your waist, caressing it gently. that was the action that made you burst into tears, so simple but so full of love that you couldn't believe it. you trembled slightly, hiding your sobs in your hoodie. you didn't want her to see you cry, you didn't want to agree with her that you were so bad that you couldn't be alone.

"can you stop pretending for a moment?" she asked, not firmly or harshly, but gently, wanting to help you open up to her. "come give me a big hug, sweet girl."

with that you got up from your place, loud whimpers coming out of your mouth you were able to approach billie hiding your head in her neck. it's been so long since she hugged you like this.

she did nothing but stroke your back, humming a soft song to help calm you down.

you couldn't be mad at her, not when you were the one who had kept everything to yourself. it was like blaming a baby for crying. you stay there, on her neck, your lower lip constantly trembling. you felt weak; you hadn't eaten anything in a few days, which only made you feel worse. you wanted to talk...to tell billie everything that was bothering you, but now you couldn't, even looking at her was difficult.

"baby, you're shaking too much," she whispered, very worried. she slowly pulled you away, noticing how you looked.

you looked over at the piece of furniture where the television was. pictures of yourself as a child were there. you were dying to show them to billie, but she'd been very busy.

"did you eat, angel?" that question made you look at her. you could tell billie the truth or lie. your heart sank and you denied it. "nothing? why, love?"

"i wasn't hungry." was the first thing you said. she looked at you as if you were lying. "it's true, i'm not hungry, billie."

she remained silent for a few seconds, stood up slowly —not before giving you a kiss on the forehead and making you comfortable on the couch— and grabbed the untouched plate of food.

your girlfriend came into the kitchen, serving some food you two had in the fridge after giving the other to shark, she heated it up quickly and brought it to you. you looked at her as if she had placed a very heavy weight in front of your eyes. she sat back down, grabbing the fork and with little food on it she brought it up to your mouth.

you didn't open your mouth.

"billie, i don't—" billie interrupted you.

"please." she begged you, her eyes slightly covered by some hairs from her bangs. "i know you don't want to, my baby, but you have to eat, okay?" she tried again to bring the fork closer.

it took you a while to open your mouth but you did it anyway, the food invaded your palate and you let out a sigh as you chewed. you closed your eyes for a moment, convincing yourself that you were doing this for billie and for yourself.

"there you go, my sweet angel." she took your hands, caressing them. "i'm so proud of you for trying."

you wanted to cry again, but this time you didn't. Instead, you threw yourself into your girlfriend's arms again, closing your eyes tightly, as if what you were experiencing was a bad dream. she placed her hands on your waist, placing you on her lap, rocking you gently like a baby. you could feel her breath on your forehead.

"it's all right, i got you."

you felt a little better, but that feeling was mild. you still felt a deep wound in your soul, a desire to ask billie why she didn't stay a little longer before going to the studio. you looked up, conflicted with your own thoughts.

"why did you leave without warning?" you whispered.

billie seemed to tense for a moment, her mind filling with guilt. maybe if she had paid more attention to you, you wouldn't be like this.

"finneas called me, told me i had to come quickly to hear something new he had." she replied, caressing your left cheek. "but anyway, sorry for leaving so quickly. i missed you."

the last thing she said made you feel a little —just a little— better, you couldn't stay mad at this woman, not when the look on her face looked so real, so guilt-ridden.

you got up from her arms without saying anything else, she became a little desperate at losing the physical contact she had with you a few seconds ago.

"where are you going, babe?—" you didn't answer her question.

your barefoot steps echoed in the large house you two shared. you reached the furniture where the television was and grabbed a couple of photos of yourself. not just any kind of photos, but photos from when you were just a baby. the same ones you brought from your childhood home. you sat back down, now next to billie, and passed her the photos.

the first photo was on your 5th birthday, you were sitting in a chair in the kitchen of your house, your hair in a simple ponytail, the cake in front of you, you blowing out the candles. the second was you in the park, your little hands trying to catch a pink balloon, your expression full of life. the third photo was one of your right eye, next to a dandelion flower, your favorites, the brightness of your eyes in the sun only stood out more, a vivid color. the fourth photo was where you were lying face down on the floor, a dollhouse decorated with recycled things, your hands holding a barbie. you were looking straight into the camera, laughing.

each photo stayed stuck in billie's soul, her eyes stung, she wanted to cry. the tips of her fingers traced your small figure in each photo; the world in her mind had stopped. you remained silent, nervously playing with your hands.

"i see myself there and isee myself today. i don't really know what to do with myself, billie." you started. she looked up, her eyes watery. "i didn't want to worry you. i feel like you're not made for this, so i didn't say anything. i didn't want to burden you with this. you have a whole life out there waiting for you."

you started crying again, this time billie did too. she pulled you into her arms, desperate, making you want to feel her love for you.

"don't say that. you'd never be a burden in my life, but rather the person who helps me bear the full weight of what the world expects of me." billie sobbed. "you don't know how good it feels to have you around, you're the only thing i look for when the world stops seeing me through a screen."

tears remained impregnated in billie's chest.

"i don't know how to feel, billie." you confessed.

"you don't have to solve this now, okay baby?" she stroke your hair, she was trying to convince herself that she was okay so she could hold you.

but the truth is that you two felt the same, so you decided to hug each other and cry together.

"sorry i wasn't there." your girlfriend grabbed your face, asking you—or rather, begging you—to forgive her.

"it's okay, bils, i love you. i'm sorry for keeping all this to myself." you let out a slightly bitter laugh, wiping away your tears.

she held you tighter, shark jumped onto the couch with one of his toys to play, but the dog quickly noticed something was wrong. "oh, shark." you whispered, calling him to lie on top of you.

the dog came quickly, lying on your lap, his expression sad now. you petted him, letting him know everything was okay.

that one day you would remember how to be happy.

"do you want to watch a movie?" your girlfriend asked softly, noticing that you were calmer, your breathing soft against her neck, tears now dry on your cheeks.

you nodded slightly, she stood up so she could look for the remote, but not before putting that photo of you playing with a barbie next to one of her photos when she was little. in her photo, she was playing with another barbie, the photos were so similar.

you smiled softly at that, billie sat down next to you again, pulling you closer. she put on any barbie movie, the first one that came out.

billie, you and shark were lying on the couch, hugging each other, watching the movie. everyone felt less heavy for you, even for your girlfriend. after a few minutes you both started laughing like little girls watching the movie scenes. you looked at the beautiful woman at your side, stealing a kiss on her cheek.

"thanks, bils." you whispered.

her eyes connected with yours, she looked at you full of love, so much that it touched your soul.

"you don't have to thank me for loving you, baby girl."

you two moved closer, joining your lips in a sweet kiss, leaving aside your problems, even your uncertainties. being like this with billie made you feel more than good, she was perhaps your only medicine.

forever.

"finch, i think i have the idea." billie smiled.

despite all the pain she suffered and not only her but also you, she was now in the studio, the hairs of her bangs all over her face, it was night, but she had already thought about the idea.

"about the barbie song?" he asked, turning around and stopping playing the piano.

she nodded, showing him the whole idea. the song, the reflection of barbie's life, the uncertainty. and she wrote everything from barbie's point of view, but also from yours.

"...something i'm made for." your girlfriend's smile was evident, her —now— red roots decorating the small pink baby tee she wore.

it had been a while since you'd disconnected from yourself. billie made it clear to finneas that even though she had all the inspiration in the world, she needed to take care of you. he quickly understood. she stopped disappearing in the morning, she started singing to you every night so you could sleep, helping you face your fears or questions, she truly accompanied you.

you were able to feel better, you started accompanying billie to the studio which only made her more inspired. she showed you her lyrics, the ideas she had and she asked you if it was okay to be inspired by you.

you felt honored, happy to be that bridge that connected billie to the peak of her creativity. when she finished the song, you were the first to hear it. you cried a lot, feeling something inside you healing.

your childhood.

they had given it back to you. billie had given it back to you.

you stood up, clapping proudly, your eyes filling with tears. everyone behind you stood up, causing a standing ovation.

(...)

"of course, you know...i've had a lot of inspiration from barbie, not just her, for sure." billie explained to the interviewer, moving her hands.

staring at you.

"i couldn't have made this song without...you know, my girlfriend— i don't know, it's all easier if i write from someone else's perspective."

applause was heard, you smiled, remembering the photos of you and billie when you were little girls playing with barbies.

that song honestly saved your life.

billie saved you too.

they piss me off so bad i cant

turning off snapchat notifications was the best thing i ever did

no one gets everybody dies like i do. (when i cry i comfort myself by sayibg 'we'll still die/kill out selfs anyway dw')

angst angst angst angst angst angst

why tf do weirdos find my profile all the time. i be collecting them like fucking unfinity stones

(be weirdos i mean old ass men who for some reasons text me tf)

i thought that i was special

you made me feel like it was my fault

god i love sweet, sappy nicknames. call me baby, call me sweetheart, call me love. call me silly names based on inside jokes, or by the cute things that remind you of me. just the idea that someone cares for me so much that they invent a hundred other ways to have my name on their lips.

crying rn

Angsty Billie request: reader is a flight attendant, and on her last rotation for the month, the plane she’s working on crashes into the ocean. Reader survives, but she’s left with lingering injuries, trauma and ptsd from her experience.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 (𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

cw: men and minors dni, 18+, angst, dealing trauma while also maintaining a relationship, very sad, no y/n usage

a/n: more requests coming soon!

wc: 2.9k

the ocean had never felt so heavy. it clung to you skin like a memory, and the dead silence of a hundred cries never heard again.

you don’t remember the impact. one second, there were clouds, clipped seatbelt clicks. the next, screams…the thing you couldn’t forget and then the sound of water swallowing everything. you remember being yanked into blackness, lungs burning. and then: nothingness.

when you woke up on the shore, everything is pain.

your body was riddled with bruises and burns. your arm is sliced open where a tray table had hit you, and you think your shoulder was dislocated..or broken? maybe. but you were alive. you were alive, and no one around you is moving.

it took three days. for help to arrive.

three days of drinking rainwater and digging through wreckage. three days of seeing faces that you wish you hadn’t. your co-workers. passengers you gave extra peanuts to. children. those faces burned in brain forever.

you were pulled from the beach on a stretcher. barely conscious, whispering billie’s name to a medic who asks, “is that your sister?”

you shake your head. “she’s…my-.”

the hospital was chaotic and a blur. sterile. reporters tried sneaking into your room. you say nothing. you didn’t want to talk about surviving. the word “miracle” makes you sick.

billie arrives on the fourth day. she bursts into the room relieved. she hadn’t slept, hair was mess, and she couldn’t take her eyes off you. raw, red eyes, and a tightness in her jaw like she hasn’t unclenched it since she got the call.

“hey,” she says softly.

you try to speak, but your throat cracks. the breathing tube was gone, but you just can’t…you reach a shaky hand out instead.

she doesn’t hesitate. she walked straight to the bed and folds her arms around you tightly. never wanting to let you go.

“i thought i lost you,” billie whispered into your neck, voice breaking.

you gripped her shirt in your fingers, clinging to her.

you didn’t go home for another two weeks.

when you did, the world changed. everything feels louder and less real. your shared apartment is too quiet. billie was supposed to be on tour, but she couldn’t. she just didn’t want to leave you. you didn’t complain.

she sets up the bed just how you liked it before. you couldn’t sleep without her. if she got up to do something during the night, you would wake up screaming and she’d rushed to your side. after that, she sleeps doesn’t get up without letting you know. just her presence keeps the water away, keeps your dreams from drowning you.

your body was healing. your mind wasn’t.

it felt like you were going crazy.

you flinched at loud noises. you couldn’t even look at your reflection without feeling like you’re back on the island. you haven’t opened the bedroom window since you got home. sometimes, you stare at the tv, but the sound was always off. silence was safer.

“i’m worried about you ,” billie says one night, sitting across from you on the floor, fingers playing with the hem of her shorts.

you look away.

“there’s nothing to be worried about.i am fine”

she nods quietly as tears fall. “you’re not. i miss you…as selfish as that sounds.”

you finally meet her gaze. “i miss me, too.”

weeks blur, losing all meaning. you just go through the motions day to day. a shell of your former self.

billie becomes your life. she makes sure you eat, reminds you to take your pain meds, she holds you through your panic attacks.

there are days when you snap, when you cry without spontaneously, when you tell her to leave, because you hate how you are now, and you hate that she has to see

she never does.

“you’re not broken,” she tells you one night when you’re curled up in the corner of the bathroom, shaking and cold even though the shower’s steaming. “you’re surviving.”

“it doesn’t feel like it,” you whisper, voice cracking. “i hate this. i hate me.”

billie kneels in front of you. Her hands are gentle as she brushes wet hair from your face. “don’t say that. you’re still you.

“i don’t know how to be me anymore, b.”

“that’s ok, babe. it takes time.”

eventually, your wounds scar over. You stop waking up every night.

you start therapy. taking about the to a stranger with a kind face who doesn’t flinch when you say, “ my friend’s body floated by me.”

billie waits for you every session. sometimes, you cry in her arms after, other times you don’t say a word.

she always waits. she always there.

the first time you go near the ocean again, it’s your idea.

she doesn’t push. just drives. you both end up at the coast around sunset. the beach is empty. you stand at the edge of the parking lot for ten minutes, shaking.

“i can’t,” you say.

“that’s ok baby, at least you came,” Billie tells you.

but then you feel her hand in yours. warm. safe. secure.

when you’re close enough to hear the tide, you start crying. mourning and healing all at once.

billie stands by you, arms wrapped around you, forehead against your temple.

“i’m alive, b,” you whisper. it’s just hitting you for the first time.

“you are” she says. “and i’m so fucking glad.”

after that.

some nights still bring nightmares.

but billie is there through it all. you start to smile again. laugh again. making coffee in the mornings while you and billie chat about little things. she brings you to her studio and plays you half-finished songs, letting you pick your favorites.

billie stayed.

through the worst of it.

through the healing.

she’s there. and slowly, you realize—

so are you.

-thank you for the request 🫶🏾